The Acquiring of Mythical Creatures
by teacupdestiny
Summary: Full title: The Acquiring of Helpless Mythical Creatures: A Guide for Desperate Fire Nation Royalty. Summary: Prince Zuko captures a mermaid at the request of his father. The last thing he expects is a fish girl like Katara. Rating is subject to change. Zutara /image by nsart on tumblr/
1. Capture

She's an aggressive little fish girl, but Zuko manages to drag her out of the water all the same. It's a wonder she hadn't drowned him, but the prince has little time to focus on such things. The mermaid writhes in his arms, slipping through them and plopping down on the sand. She frantically drags herself toward the surf, but he snatches her back off the ground. This time, he makes sure to hold onto her arms. Her tails slaps harmlessly against his legs.

"Let me go!" the fish girl cries, the first coherent words he's heard from her yet, "Let me go, you bastard son of snail-crab—_let me go!_"

It's not entirely surprising that the fish girl has the manners of an ill-bred fisher man's wife. At least her arms are not as slippery as fish scales, he easily slings her over his back. The mermaid claws at his back with surprising strength. She sounds close to tears, repeating in an endless litany _let me go_.

His men wait on the other side of the lagoon; he can tell they are just as surprised that he's survived. With a mermaid in tow, no less. His father will be pleased.

"Why are you doing this?" the fish girl cries, "What have I ever done to you?"

Her scales are the color of her eyes; breath-taking blue. Zuko just wished the things she said were as beautiful as she was. He can't wait to dump in her holding tank. She probably won't shut up, but at least he won't have to hear her. The prince can't afford to feel guilt for the fish girl; she's just a pawn in a game much larger than them both.

"You'd better curb that tongue of yours, girl," he tells her, "Or my father will have it cut off."

He wishes it was a bluff, he wishes he could let this beautiful creature go. But neither of them are in control of their destiny any longer. It's something, perhaps the only thing, he shares in common with this mermaid.

"I _have_ a name," she spits, "It's Katara. Use it, two-legs."

Maybe if the circumstances were different he might have liked this one. He'll never know.


	2. In which there is more hate than love

Her tank is chained down the deck of his ship. It's not very big, two feet across both ways and barely seven feet up. It's not the ideal tank, but it's the first he could find and it does the job well enough. The tank does, unfortunately, leave the mermaid in the direct line of the sun. She is currently curled at the bottom of her tank, watching the sailors pass with disinterested blue eyes. Her tail fins billow slowly back and forth, like a dragon twitching her tail. There is a sunburn slowly coloring her delicate nose. Zuko was half-convinced her dark, dark skin would prevent sunburns, but it appears that nobody is perfect. He's coming to realize that this mythical girl is far from it.

The prince watches her from his command tower twenty feet above her head. She shifts restlessly, lunges upward to grab the metal grating at the top of her tank. The mermaid stretches and all the men in her general vicinity stop to stare. She's unclothed from the waist up and generously endowed. His stomach flips at the thought.

The mermaid rocks the tank a few times, water sloshing out. It's secured well and doesn't budge more than an inch. She's spent days at this with no results; he's not very worried. He can imagine her sighing as she sinks back to the bottom of her tank. Dark hair floats down after her. A shiver runs down his back.

Zuko ignores his growing desire for the fish girl. As beautiful as Katara is, she's a dangerous creature. It would be easy for her to tear him limb from limb, drink his blood. Knowing her, the little beast would probably enjoy it. Maybe she wonders why she hadn't taken her chances before. Actually, he knows she wonders that because it's been three weeks since he dragged her from the waves and she's hissed and cursed every time he's been within eye shot since. Even now, she glares up at his window. She probably can't see more than a shadow standing in the window, but she's not human and normal standards don't apply. Zuko doesn't move, just stares back down at her. The prince of the fire nation is not afraid of a foul mouthed fish girl.

* * *

The Dragon Prince visits her after dinner, as she is attempting to gag down her nightly fish. She doesn't notice him approach, nibbling and feeling mostly unsatisfied. Katara longs for her gran gran's stewed sea prunes, for something cooked and edible.

"Not good enough for you?" he asks her, his face inches from hers.

She lunges at the glass, but the man doesn't flinch. He smiles and stands. His eyes practically glow in the dark, yellow and hypnotic. Katara glowers. He thinks he's so smug, that she's weak without the ocean. So little these men know. She longs for her legs; she's never had her tail for this long. Not since her mother died.

Katara curls at the bottom of her tank. This is a secret worth keeping, she tells herself. Let the Fire Nation think she is confined to the waves and water, let them think she's never walked on land. They'll never see it coming when she escapes. She'll take this prince with her, this infuriatingly handsome man, and make sure that he knows just how far down she can swim.

She smiles at the Dragon Prince and then settles into for another restless night. She sees his eyes, watching her carefully, every time she closes her own.


	3. Escape or rather, a poor attempt at it

After weeks of traveling, the Dragon Prince orders a full stop. The entire crew proceeds to spend the day scrubbing the ship from top to bottom. Katara pays them little attention, curling up at the bottom of the tank and settling her hair over her back to avoid the worst of the sun. The sun has been getting harsher and harsher with each day that passes; the water in her prison becomes dirtier and dirtier. A fine carpet of fish bones makes resting even more difficult. Katara feels like an animal, wallowing in her own filth. She wonders if this is the life she is to look forward to. A tiny tank, filthy waters, gawking men. At least they haven't touched her yet. But maybe they're just trying to preserve her scales before they cut them off or maybe she's to be sold when they reach wherever they're going.

Later in the day, she is roused by activity around her prison. She eyes the sailors wearily; they're _very_ clearly planning something. They unchain the tank, ready nearby nets. Either they're planning to throw her overboard or _they're going to clean the tank_. Her heart skips a beat. She can't let them watch her legs return, can't lose this opportunity to escape either. Katara decides to bide her time, braiding her hair and watching the Dragon Prince very carefully.

The men, in turn, watch her. They won't stare openly in the Dragon Prince's presence, but they shoot her quick glances from time to time. Their lust for her is practically tangible. She'll use this to her advantage; these men won't expect an escape if they are too busy bedding her in their minds. The men, four on each side, begin to lower the tank to the ground. It becomes clear that they mean to use the poles and nets to drag her out once the water is gone. Katara tries to act frightened, sinking to the bottom of the tank as if she's a hermitsnail. She coils her tail, tensing. Just as the water begins to slosh over, she abandons the guise and lunges up to the grate. She loops her fingers through easily, as she had done a dozen times, and throws her weight down with a mighty thrust. The men lose grip easily and the whole thing comes crashing down.

It's a brilliant idea, though she doesn't expect the sudden presence of pain.

* * *

It appears that he underestimated her. She's desperate, that much should have been obvious to Zuko, but it turns out that she's also crazy. The mermaid rises from the ruins of her tank, rivulets of blood pooling on the deck. Most of it is not red, but silver. Zuko recalls the words of the old legends; the moon runs in her blood. _Literally._

The mermaid, replying on her arm strength alone, slithers out of the wreckage. She leaves a trail of silver behind her swishing tail. She is surprisingly fast. Before he knows it, she's slithered halfway across deck. Zuko throws himself in her path; he'll perish before he lets his ticket home escape. She hisses at him. For a moment she looks every bit the monster she is. He's not afraid of her.

"Stop yourself," he tells her, "Or there won't be any mercy when I do."

She laughs at him. It sounds painful and the predator in him knows that she's injured herself too gravely to escape. His inner dragon smiles and he lets his confidence show. Fear flickers in the mermaid's eyes, but they both know she won't go down without a fight. They both know she won't be escaping today.

He doesn't bother speaking again. He doesn't need to. The mermaid dodges to the right and he breaths fire in her path. The crew is familiar with this, but he doubts the mermaid has ever met a dragon descendant. She shrieks and scrambles for another direction. Another burst of flame cuts her off.

Zuko advances, grabs her arm. She whirls on him, hissing and clawing. It's laughable. She's acting more like a lizard girl than an actual mermaid. Perhaps she's part sea snake, he muses. He easily wrestles her down. In the water, she is dangerous and deadly; on land she is nothing more than a feeble teenage girl. Zuko drags her, writhing tail and all, to the nets previously laid out. He wraps the mermaid in them tightly, weighing her down with layer and layer of thick mesh. She very quickly becomes a cursing and harmless bundle of ropes.

Zuko orders his men to deposit her in a holding cell and it still takes four of them to handle her. He turns back to the mess of his tank. Zuko doesn't know how long she'll survive without water; the old legends are vague at best. He figures that he'd best acquire a new one quickly.

"Sir." His lieutenant approaches.

"Yes, Ji?" He says.

Lieutenant Ji was handpicked by his Uncle Iroh and the man has since proven himself invaluable. The two clashed when Zuko was younger, but he has come to hold the man in high esteem.

"You've been hurt, your highness," Ji says, "Will you require a healer?"

Zuko glances down. The mermaid had clawed right through his thick leather arm guard and carved a gash up his arm. Blood, gold as the sun, soaks into his sleeve. He must look ridiculous, covered in the mermaid's moon blood and his own sun colored blood.

"No," he tells Ji, "I will heal just fine. When the mermaid calms send the healer to make sure she does the same."

"Of course, sir," Ji says, "I will see to it that she is chained the bed as well."

"Good." he nods.

Both men bow and the lieutenant rushes off. Zuko turns back to the wreckage. They have much to do before arriving in the Fire Nation. Keeping the mermaid alive is at the top of his list.


	4. In which terrible things are realized

Of all he'd expected, out of everything he'd meticulously planned for, Zuko never quite expected…this.

_This_ changes everything.

His mermaid, _the_ mermaid has _legs_. Two brown and smooth, _human_ legs.

Between the time he'd restrained her and the quarter hour it took for the healer to make his way to her new holding cell, the mermaid's tail had disappeared. Gone were the scales and the fins, the vivid blue that rivaled her eyes. Instead, there was skin and bone and pleasantly wide child bearing hips. On each small foot there are five tiny, delicate toes.

Without a tail she looks small. Weaker somehow. She's not a woman; she's little more than a girl. Not much younger than him, he thinks. It hardly stops his men from ogling her, though.

"Cover her." Zuko orders the Jee, and then proceeds to banish the rest of the men from the room.

"See to it that her chains are properly adjusted and a competent guard is set outside the door." he adds.

Jee will see to it that an honorable man, one who can keep his piece in his trousers, is assigned her. The last thing Zuko needs is for some idiot to set a monster free while trying to rape a defenseless girl. And _if_ the legends are to be trusted at all and _if_ the absence of the ocean _does_ weaken her, he'll not stand by and allow such an act to occur. Not to Katara.

Zuko leaves, locks himself in his room under the guise of retrieving suitable clothing for his newly legged prisoner (its one thing to ogle a hissing mermaid behind glass and another to have a very touchable and physically restrained girl). He tries not to think about her, or the serene expression she'd had while unconscious. He'd never seen such an expression on her face; the mermaid was even prettier when she wasn't conveying her desire to end him. Zuko groans, bangs his head against the window. It's no longer a matter of denying his attraction, or ignoring her beautiful body. She's becoming more than just a passing fancy and the realization makes the desire to take her to bed more and more powerful.

He thanks Agni that she'll be out of his hair in less than two days' time.

* * *

Katara wakes very slowly. Her memories are very fuzzy, heavy as if they have been soaked with rain water. There is a bad taste in her mouth that makes her think she's been drugged. Her body is warm, but uncomfortable. She can't move and the surface below her is stiff and hard. Lying on half-frozen dirt would be more comfortable, she thinks.

Her eyes open, but the room is very dim. She tries to sit up, but her limbs are chained down and spread eagle. She's naked and only a thin blanket protects her. Katara is terrified before she can blink twice. Her legs have returned, but there is no glass tank to keep unwanted visitors away. She struggles against her bonds and _knows_ that she can snap them.

They only rattle.

A man peaks his head in the door. Their eyes meet and she hisses at him before she can think twice. Katara almost feels part animal, she hasn't had a civil conversation in longer than she can remember.

"She's awake," the man says, presumably to another soldier in the hallway, "Inform the Prince."

This man turns to look at her; she struggles. Without water, her strength has dwindled, but she's still stronger than any mortal.

"The chains are reinforced." the dragon prince says.

She hadn't even noticed him enter the room. His eyes scrutinize her, reflecting upon the little light in the room. She feels insignificant beneath the power of his gaze. She still hisses at him on principal.

Though her most recent memories are foggy, she can't forget how he breathed fire like a dragon. He _is_ a dragon. She's never seen such a thing before, never imagined the trait was still prevalent among dragon descendants. Katara is among the last of her kind; what if there are dozens like this prince….hundreds? She never could have imagined that he was truly a dragon's descendant.

The dragon prince produces a key and wordlessly unchains her. She attacks him the moment she can move, nakedness be damned. He pins her down as easily as one would a child; a shriek of frustration and a stream of curses escape her mouth. Gran-gran would swat her with a spoon if she were here. The dragon prince produces a dressing robe and forces her into it. It smells like him, dragon smoke and spice, and can't decide whether she wants to recoil or breathe in a little more deeply. It means clothing and protection, she allows him to dress her.

Using a silk sash (She's never anything so smooth), he ties the robe closed and then binds her hands with twine.

Spirit's help her, she can't even break that.

"What have you done to me?" Katara demands.

The dragon prince ignores her, pulling her up. Her head swims and she pitches forward. Everything wavers for a moment, as if the room is underwater and she is looking down into it. The dragon prince catches her shoulders and pulls her back up, sets her against the wall with a surprising gentleness. It takes a few minutes for everything to stop swimming in her head.

"Are you hungry?" he asks.

She's nodding before her brain can process the statement. Katara hasn't had real food in _days_. A single raw fish isn't enough to keep _anyone_ alive. The dragon prince makes a gesture and one of his men enters with a steaming tray of food. Her mouth waters. The man stops a few feet short.

"Now then," the dragon prince says, "Tell me how it was that you came to have legs?"

She can feel the blood draining from her face. Katara swallows. She'd rather set herself on fire than give up her secrets and she tells the dragon prince as much. He nods and then his soldier leaves. The smell lingers in the room, so she lies back down and faces the wall.

The prince strokes her hair once; his hands are surprisingly warm.

"My father will not be half as kind to you," he tells her softly, "if you have something he wants. It would be best to tell me before he tortures it out of you."

The prince leaves the room and Katara realizes that she's going to die.


End file.
